


Mask (ENG)

by NaitiaClo960



Series: Suptober 2020 (ENG) [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Cowboy Castiel, Dean Winchester as Batman, Drunk Castiel (Supernatural), Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Masks, Misunderstandings, Party, Protective Dean Winchester, Suptober 2020 (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26857366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaitiaClo960/pseuds/NaitiaClo960
Summary: Dean almost cursed his brother for dragging him into this Halloween party just to abandon him ten minutes later for the pleasure of Jessica Moore’s company. Leaning against the bar isolated from the dance floor, he sighed, grateful to have at least some alcohol to comfort himself with. He had decided to swallow a few more drinks before going back to his apartment to watch TV when, suddenly, someone came to pull him out of his morose thoughts by bumping into him.[Suptober, day 6]
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Suptober 2020 (ENG) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951687
Comments: 7
Kudos: 68
Collections: Suptober 2020 (ENG)





	Mask (ENG)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Again, I wrote more than I should have written for this story but I’m pretty happy with the result, even though it gave me a hard time. Thanks to Bab for helping me brainstorm everything and to Amber for her corrections :)  
> Enjoy!

Dean almost cursed his brother for dragging him into this Halloween party just to abandon him ten minutes later for the pleasure of Jessica Moore’s company. Even though they’d been married for two years, those two were still disappearing to go get laid somewhere and Dean really didn’t want to be around when that happened. It wasn’t for him, thank you. And really, a Halloween party? He was over 30 and he didn’t even know that adults were still celebrating this kind of thing like any other Saturday night.

But he was apparently wrong considering the crowded dance floor of that theme bar. Everyone had played along, zombies moving their bodies among vampires, witches and werewolves. Some had opted for more classic costumes such as the nurse near the bar or the clown close of the toilet and from whom Sam would surely stay away. As for the DJ, he was on stage in his pirate disguise, giving the microphone to the beatboxer alien from time to time. The atmosphere was still friendly and it’s not like Dean had anything else to do with his October 31st evening, but he didn’t particularly want to meet anyone tonight.

His Batman costume didn’t seem to be as popular as he would have liked and the only girl who had noticed him all night long — a kind of giant pumpkin stained with blood, nothing very appetizing really — had mixed him up with "this guy from Avengers". Yet his mask was proudly on his face, his eyes surrounded with black make-up, and his cape flew according to his movements as his ears pointed towards the sky. Dean spent $50 on that suit and it wasn’t to be mocked by an uncultivated pumpkin.

Leaning against the bar isolated from the dance floor, Dean sighed, grateful to have at least some alcohol to comfort himself with. He had decided to swallow a few more drinks before going back to his apartment to watch TV when, suddenly, someone came to pull him out of his morose thoughts by bumping into him.

"Oh, really sorry." A low male voice apologized. "I should have looked around before I came down here."

Dean turned his surprised gaze to a man wearing a pretty convincing cowboy suit. Though judging by the wide headscarf on his eyes, he certainly personified an outlaw, a bee pin as a sheriff’s badge. Dean raised his eyebrows, moving to make room for the stranger.

"No harm done." He replied with a casual smile, tightening his grip around his shot of Alabama Slammer.

The cowboy came to take the place next to him before ordering as well, his blue penetrative gaze back on Dean.

"Very successful, the Batman." He said, obviously open to make conversation.

The stranger glanced at him for a moment, from top to bottom, and Dean could not restrain a feeling of pride taking hold of him. He smiled more while turning completely towards his new companion.

"Finally, someone with actual knowledge in this bar!" Dean exclaimed with amusement. "I swear, the next person who calls me 'Captain America' gets hit".

"What, someone dared to make that comparison?" The cowboy marveled in a laugh.

"Oh, you have no idea what I’ve heard." Dean lamented before drinking his shot further, savoring it more than the previous ones. He focused his attention on the cowboy and arched an eyebrow. "Your costume is really cool too, a true rodeo pro with that."

Another clear laugh escaped from the stranger’s mouth, surpassing the music that resonated further on the dance floor. The cowboy’s order finally arrived to him as he answered.

"Me, I don’t know. But William Brooks was certainly a fine gunfighter, that’s right." He replied before dipping his lips in his glass of pure vodka.

Dean eye’s widened, his smile growing bigger and bigger. There were so few people who knew that name, it couldn’t be a coincidence. Of course, for a huge fan of old western movies, the comparison was obvious, but he had to be sure.

"William Brooks as…?"

"Buffalo Bill, exactly."

Dean uttered an exclamation of joy.

"Awesome! Buffalo Bill is one of the best outlaws of his time, his adventures are amazing!" He said as he looked into the cowboy’s blue eyes.

"I know, he is my favorite mercenary!" This one replied in an equally cheerful tone.

Dean felt his night was suddenly changing. Maybe if the cowboy stayed here and talked to him, he might consider staying longer and enjoying the party.

"Dean" He said, raising his glass to the cowboy.

"Castiel." He replied with an easy smile.

They clinked their glasses before swallowing them bottoms up. Finally, without either of them really realizing it, hours —and the shots— flew at an incredible speed. What Dean thought was another tasteless evening turned out to be a very good time as he and Castiel talked. Sam and Jessica even came to him around 1:00 in the morning to tell him that they were going back home and Dean had just said goodbye to them before returning to his exciting conversation with Castiel about the best horror movies. Castiel, to tell the truth, seemed rather cowardly, but he listened to each of his words with particular attention which did not fail to warm Dean’s heart.

Neither of them particularly wanted to dance, happy with their own part of the bar and the distant music as the place gradually emptied. Around 1:30, however, their harmony was disrupted by a third person who was obviously already well drunk. Without being invited, a man in his forties, dressed in a chicken costume, came to interfere in their conversation with a lot of hearty laughter and inappropriate remarks, clearly hitting on Castiel while royally ignoring Dean yet less than a meter away from him.

When the man asked Castiel for his number for at least the sixth time of the evening, he rolled his eyes. Despite all the more or less subtle refusals from Castiel, the man did not seem to get the message and the good mood of the cowboy was gradually flying away as the stranger became touchier. Dean had held himself back until now, not wanting to make a scene and risk embarrassing Castiel, but when the stranger passed a hand stinking of cigarettes around his friend’s shoulder and that Castiel flinched, he decided that it was going too far.

Dean grabbed the stranger’s arm and push him away from Castiel, the man stumbling before catching himself at the bar.

"Hey, man. Get lost. I won’t tell you twice." Dean growled while standing in front of Castiel.

"Wow, easy pal!" The stranger replied, raising his hands in front of him, frowning. "It’s just a fra… fri-friendly discussion here."

It was more than obvious that the alcohol had reached what was left of his brain. Dean did not move an inch.

"Why don’t you go make friends somewhere else, _pal_?" Dean said in an icy voice. "Get out of here."

Eventually, the man grumbled, but walked away without further ado. Dean turned back to Castiel who raised an eyebrow in his direction. Dean pinched his lips. Great, did he just ruin his chances with him just because he wasn’t able to contain his emotions? _Well done Winchester_.

"Okay, so it’s not just a costume, is it? You’re a real caped crusader." Castiel finally joked with a happy smile on his face.

Dean relaxed and laughed with him, returning to his place near the bar.

"That’s it, keep laughing. Somebody had to save you from that ambush cowboy." Dean replied, returning to his empty glass.

"Save me, eh? Who says I wasn’t ready to draw at all times?" Castiel pouted.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"No offense, but you could barely aim straight with all the vodka you’ve been drinking." He teases softly, smiling at Castiel.

"Mmh, point for you." He mumbled.

And Dean couldn’t have put it better. Castiel did not stop at this drink and Dean was truly impressed that his friend had not yet vomited the contents of his stomach on his shoes. On the contrary, Castiel seemed to be a happy drunk and, although his words were increasingly incoherent, he also became more tactile. Dean didn’t mind, laughing at his friend’s behavior. He couldn’t really blame him for overstepping his bounds, even a skilled party boy like Dean was sometimes fooled by alcohol.

However, around 3:00 in the morning, the bar began to kick out the last customers and Dean found himself with a drunken Castiel completely slumped against him on a bench in the streets of Chicago.

"And it was just crazy because… because his dog wasn’t even white, you know? And then…

"Cas?" Dean gently cut him off, with a small smile on his face. "I think it’s time to go home. Do you live around?"

Castiel pouted. Dean could not help but think that, even when being completely drunk, Castiel was no less pleasant and attractive. The headscarf had still not left his eyes, blocking his face and hiding it from Dean’s curious gaze. Only two orbs of a brilliant blue continued to stare at him with an absent look, almost swallowed by the black of the pupil.

"…Mmh, maybe?" Castiel mumbled before slumping a bit more against Dean, sleepy.

Dean raised an eyebrow, looking around for his car.

"Okay… Okay, I’ll walk you out, right? What’s your address?"

Once again, Castiel grumbled before shrugging and stared at the pavement with intensity, as if it was whispering all his secrets to him. Dean bit his lip and swore inwardly. It was out of the question for him to leave Castiel alone outside in such a state or to take the risk of calling him a taxi.

"Well, come here buddy."

Dean grabbed Castiel by the waist and guided him to the end of the street. The journey to his car was not easy, but in the end he managed to put his companion in the passenger seat before taking the wheel. Fortunately, the alcohol had already somewhat faded in his system but he took the time to drive slowly. Dean glanced uneasily at Castiel from time to time, now leaning against the window and observing the landscape in silence. He had become mute, which gave Dean time to think.

What the hell was he doing? Driving a completely drunk stranger home was like the beginning of a very bad situation. Was it considered kidnapping? Dean nervously licked his lips after another look at Castiel. They didn’t know each other that well yet, and the last thing Dean wanted was to scare his friend.

But at a closer look, he had no other choice. Castiel was unable to take care of himself at the moment and it was not an option for Dean to take the risk of putting him in danger. What if he ran into the other jerk at the bar and took him home? No, Dean didn’t want to think about it. At least he had a warm bed and painkillers waiting for him at home.

When they reached their destination, Castiel was even more apathetic than when he left the bar. He kept mumbling anecdotes that Dean was supposed to understand as he was helping him up the three floors to his apartment.

A bunch of encouragement and much patience later, Dean finally closed the door of his home behind them. Castiel immediately took an interest in his AC/DC key ring for a minute before looking around. He seemed to frown under his mask.

"Pepper?" He suddenly called.

Dean frowned too. Was Castiel looking for someone? Dean lost some of the color on his face. Was it his girlfriend? His _wife_?

"Who is Pepper?" He asked without being able to help himself.

Castiel seemed confused for a moment before shrugging and mumbling.

"Goldfish."

This time, Dean really had to hold back a laugh at the stupidity of the situation.

"Okay, well, I’m sure Pepper is doing just fine. Now you’re going to go wash up and go to sleep." Dean sighed by dragging him further into his apartment, shaking his head.

When they arrived in the bathroom, it was more than obvious that Castiel was equally incapable of doing anything without help. Dean sat patiently on the edge of the tub while his friend stared at him with fascination, complimenting every little detail with a slurred voice. Finally, Dean knelt before him and began to take off his boots. Castiel did not protest, so Dean did the same with his socks, his long black leather coat, his belt, his gloves, his hat and everything else until the cowboy was only in jeans and shirt in front of him.

However, the headscarf was still in place and Dean hesitated before removing it. The piece of fabric was large and covered at least the entire upper part of Castiel’s face, hiding what he perceived to be prominent cheekbones to go with his square jaw. He swallowed. Castiel was simply focusing on an invisible spot near Dean’s ear when he finally decided to untie the knot behind Castiel’s face to remove the mask.

If Dean had believed that Castiel’s eyes were mesmerizing until then, it was nothing compared to the irresistible portrait that had just appeared before him. Dean held his breath for a moment while he allowed himself to admire each piece of skin offered to his sight, Castiel totally oblivious of the red appearing on the cheeks of his host.

He didn’t know after how long he was able to get out of this state —" _No kidding, stop looking at people like that, Dean, you’re gonna scare him_ _"_ he told himself— but he managed to get rid of the costume and make-up in turn before escorting Castiel to his room.

His friend was now more than silent, letting himself be pushed around when Dean laid him out among the blankets. The effect was almost immediate: barely wedged in his pillows, Castiel closed his eyes and his face relaxed. He fell asleep a few seconds later after turning to his side. Dean smiled softly, unable to prevent this urge of tenderness from growing in his chest at this sight. As a precaution, he decided to leave an empty basin and painkillers on the bedside table before letting Castiel sleep.

He’d take the couch tonight.

* * *

Dean awoke to the sweet sound of someone puking his guts out in the bathroom. He sighed. He had not had enough sleep to his liking and the filtering light in his living room kept coming to attack his eyes. Aware that he could not go back to sleep anyway, he decided to go and check on his guest. Dean more or less effectively dragged himself to the barely opened door of his bathroom before gently knocking against the wood.

"…Cas?" He called out in a hoarse voice. "Is everything okay?"

The bathroom became silent a moment after his words before a barely human grunt resounded. Dean sympathized with him.

"I know." He replied gently. "The towels are in the right cupboard if you want to take a shower. And, uh, I should have clean toothbrushes in the first drawer. Take your time."

Another grunt, this time softer, rose again from the bathroom and Dean closed the door before moving on to the kitchen. Ten minutes later, he heard the shower turn on.

When Castiel was finally able to appear in the kitchen with a slightly more presentable face, though still sick, Dean had already had time to prepare the coffee and a pancake batter.

"Morning _sunshine_." Dean joked, glancing behind him and trying not to look at his friend again for hours." Was yesterday’s rodeo a little too much for you?"

Castiel stared at him with wide eyes before coughing. Dean turned around, raising an eyebrow.

"I, uh… Hello." A silence. Dean smiled kindly as Castiel looked everywhere but in his direction. "Okay, this is going to be really awkward, but, uh... did we… you know?"

Dean adopted a confused expression before blushing until the roots of the hairs, mortified. He really had to learn to choose his words more carefully if he wanted to stop finding himself in these kinds of awkward situations.

"No!" He hastened to rectify. "No, by rodeo I meant... Well… You drank a lot yesterday and I didn’t know where you lived, so I drove you here. The only thing that happened was you calling for your goldfish." Dean let out a little laugh. "But you slept in the bed and I slept on the couch. My sore back is proof."

Castiel seemed to relax a little before finally getting closer. He still seemed a bit embarrassed, probably because of everything he had imposed on Dean the night before, but at least his shy smile had come back to illuminate his face.

"Thank you. I would have hated not to remember that if we had spent the night together." He replied by looking up at him, and Dean could already say that it was not really a joke.

"Oh." That was the only intelligent answer he could come up with.

All this had the talent of relaxing the atmosphere while Dean served a large cup of coffee to Castiel, throwing him soft glances from time to time. His friend took the cup between his fingers before blowing gently on the surface of his coffee.

"I don’t know how to thank you." Castiel said as Dean went back to his pancakes. "If I invite you next time, do you think you can forget all the embarrassing things I probably did yesterday?"

Dean felt a pleasant sensation in his chest as a fine smile bloomed on his face. Castiel seemed almost in the right place in his kitchen, drinking coffee as if it was the most natural thing to do in the world. He nodded slowly, feeling his zygomatic pulling his lips up.

"Yee-haw cowboy." Dean huffed.

Castiel shook his head, amused, while Dean was simply delighted to learn that there would be a next time.

"On one condition though." He quickly added.

"Yes?" Castiel asked, curious.

"Undisguised this time."

And just like that, this wonderful laugh was back, filling the room with a light and warm atmosphere.

"Deal."

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I could have develop their morning furthermore but, alas, I was caught up by time! Dean in the "guardian angel" role is an aspect that I quite like in this situation. What are your thoughts? Do not hesitate to give me your impressions in comments or by leaving a kudo :)  
> See you tomorrow for some more Destiel!


End file.
